Daytime Responses
by S. Winter-Fitzgerald
Summary: After a couple of weeks away, Rosie is back in Melbourne in time for her father and Sidney's trial. My belated contribution to June's challenge and a sequel to 'Midnight Plans' (written for the May portion of MFMM Year of Quotes, but you can read them separately).
1. Chapter 1

_"She was there, in the full vigour of her personality, battered but not diminished" Willa Cather, My Antonia_

Rosie took a deep breath when the outline of Melbourne started to come to life on the horizon. Soon, that train would take her there and she braced herself for the harrowing times ahead.

Those two weeks in Sydney had been good though. She had been able to get her mind into some order, reuniting with Mary had been most pleasant and invigorating, and while one can't run away from their problems forever, it's always nice to be able to go somewhere else for a time, at least while everything is that raw.

Rosie felt a pang of loneliness as friends and family reunited with most of the people coming out of the same train she had just alighted. She closed her eyes for a brief instant. One thing at the time. She informed the porter she would drop by the station's post office before getting a taxi and, as promised, had a telegram sent to Mary to let her friend know she had arrived well in Melbourne.

The trial was scheduled to begin within two days. With such a large number of defendants and given the complexity of the case, hearings alone were bound to take quite some time and while Rosie tried to feel as prepared as she could, there were some moments when thinking about it was a bit unsettling nevertheless. But she wouldn't dwell on it now. One thing at the time. It was easier that way. And right now, she must focus on getting home.

xxx

She had never been bothered by it, but the house struck her as cartoonishly big now, an impression deepened by the length of the verandahs on the two sides of the house she could see, the big surrounding garden and how diminutive Rosie felt standing in front of it while she waited for the taxi driver to get her luggage inside.

Who knew if she wouldn't have to give it up soon, if it turned out to have been acquired with unlawfully-gotten funds in spite of her father's own money? It was in her name but it had been a gift from him when she had married Jack, «somewhere suitable for them to live in», her father had said. Rosie hadn't completely been able to overlook the discomfort it had caused her husband or how it had been the background to most of the disintegration of her marriage but she had never wanted to sell it, not even when she had moved to Sidney's gargantuan mansion. She would think about it eventually, Rosie had promised her fiancé, but she had never been sure it would happen that quickly and now she was glad she had never felt like following through with it.

Yes, in hindsight it was indeed too big for a young couple, even with the prospect of children in view and represented an unfair power play on her father's part against an honest and good man whose major fault had been to fall in love with her, but she loved the house and was glad to be back.

«Everything is in, Miss», the taxi driver said.

«Thank you», Rosie said, paying the fare and including a generous tip.

The taxi driver nodded in appreciation and took off.

Rosie's shoes tapped on the mosaics of the porch and she walked inside. The smell of fresh flowers hovered in the hallway, the two bouquets on the table made even more colourful by the way the light coming from the stained glass on each side of the door hit them. Rosie shivered, her spirits cracking for a couple of seconds. She had been perfectly clear – unless mandated to by the law, Rosie wouldn't testify for either her father or Sidney. She had unceremoniously thrown out the other bouquets they had had sent and she would do the same to these. She yanked the cards from the arrangements with a brisk motion and read them. _Welcome back, I can't wait to see you, dear – Catherine,_ read the first. _Dear Rosie, Melbourne wasn't the same with you away. Welcome home – Your friend, Anne Broughton,_ was written on the other. Rosie took a deep breath and smiled. She might feel betrayed by her father and by Sidney but there were many people who cared about her: friends and family and even a loving godson in Thomas, Mary's oldest child.

«Marietta, please make sure everything is ready for a special tea party tomorrow», Rosie asked her maid while she walked towards the telephone to thank her cousin and her friend for their thoughtful gesture and to invite them over the next day. She wished she could see them as soon as possible but that afternoon was already reserved for putting things in order. Those weeks had only been a small respite. Her time off was over.

* * *

A/n: A fortnight (and some) later, here's my entry for June's Challenge of MFMM Year of Quotes. In spite of its poor timing, I hope you enjoy this chapter (and the next, since we're at it).

Thank you for reading and for your time. Feedback is appreciated as always.


	2. Chapter 2

The silver and moonstone ring had circuited Rosie's finger as many times as minutes had passed. She had to get out of the car eventually, but seeing the gaggles of journalists standing by the court entrance didn't make it any easier as neither did all the yelling and the flashing bulbs from the cameras with which they surrounded everybody that got into the courthouse.

The day she had both dreaded and wanted to arrive at once had come and it was time to reckon with it. Rosie was certain she was ready for it, it wasn't only something she tried to convince herself of, but it didn't fully overrule her anxiety. It was, after all, the first time she would see her father after he had been arrested and Sidney since the truth about his crimes had come to light and Rosie acknowledged how heavily this circumstance weighed on her. She knew that it would never have a clear-cut resolution, but still finding herself going from anger to disgust, from rage to disappointment, from a hunger for revenge to an engulfing sense of betrayal made her feel rather unsure and uneasy in her skin. She knew she couldn't and wouldn't let herself burn in fury forever and since pardon towards those two man would hardly ever come, she would settle for indifference – regarding them that was, never regarding their victims because when Rosie thought of them, she reverted back to wrath on those girls' behalf. It was puzzling how she hadn't been able to flat out hate her father and Sidney. Hating them felt too passive, her emotions were too close to the surface for that, ready to jump out of her at any time and it took her a great deal of effort to reign them in.

A blue car stopped by the courthouse entrance and a man alighted. It was Jack. How many times had she watched him from afar like that? In the past, that sight had filled her with love, then with resentment, and now with a certain peace. They hadn't interacted much since that day when her life had come crashing down and she had cried on his shoulder, but he had telephoned a couple of times to inquire about her well-being and to inform her about the case as best as he could within the frame set by the law. She had been moved. Once they met again, he would certainly greet her with care and that decency that simply radiated off him, it might be a ridiculous question but how was she, he would assure her that the Police had done their best and that while justice sometimes got crooked in more or less predictable ways, there was a lot on their side for it not to happen this time.

She missed him. Not as a husband and not even as a friend, something he had always been. She missed 'Jack' for the person he was underneath the layers of connection that had bonded them before.

There was a knock on the passenger's window. Rosie was startled by the noise, but soon recognised the face beyond the glass.

Rosie nodded and Miss Fisher got in the car.

«Good afternoon», she greeted.

«How do you do, Miss Sanderson?», Phryne smiled politely as they shook hands. «I hope you don't take offence. I just saw you here by yourself a thought best to say something».

«Thank you, Miss Fisher. That's very kind of you. My cousin came with me but I told her to go ahead».

«I understand. I told Miss Williams to go in with Miss Halewood too», she continued, meaning the lawyer they had hired to aid their navigation through the judicial system and serve as liaison if needed.

«Thank you for keeping me up to date while I was in Sydney», Rosie said. During those two weeks away, they had exchanged a significantly amount of letters and telegrams regarding the case, what was being done in preparation for the trial, and how they could contribute.

«You are welcome. I find it was very fruitful and hope that in the end it does prove to be have been so».

«Indeed». Rosie paused for an instant. The bright and brave Miss Fisher had shown herself to be so beyond her own self-confidence through her informative letters and restless effort and while Rosie didn't exactly envy her, it did gnaw at her.

«I expect you don't find me unengaged or feeble for having been in Sydney this time while you carried on here and followed the developments closely», Rosie said levelly, addressing a feeling which had been brewing in her for those last weeks, grating more acutely each time she finished reading the correspondence received from Melbourne.

«Not at all», replied Phryne, in a tone that stated clearly that she wasn't trying to appease Rosie. «You could have departed to Sydney or anywhere else and stay there indefinitely and without reaching out but you didn't. You needed your distance, which I understand completely, but you kept involved and tried to help as much as you could. Don't beat yourself over it, Miss Sanderson, because there's absolutely no reason why you should».

Rosie nodded. She hadn't tried to coax a particular reaction out of her and wouldn't bear any hint of pitying sympathy but she couldn't deny that she had felt a certain relief upon hearing those words, even if she didn't need Miss Fisher's validation to carry on with her life.

«It's best if I join Miss Williams and Miss Halewood. I guess we'll meet again in a minute, Miss Sanderson».

«Yes», agreed Rosie, appreciating the fact that Miss Fisher had picked up on her feelings and the quiet support that she had demonstrated.

Miss Fisher nodded and exited the motorcar.

The journalists flocked to her and while in other occasion Miss Fisher would have probably relished in their attention, this time she made her way in silence and a no-nonsense stride.

Rosie took a deep breath. She couldn't put it off any longer or she would be late and she didn't want to disturb the proceedings and, even worse, pull everybody's focus to her.

Rosie got out of the automobile and walked towards the courthouse. The reporters goaded her and yelled so many questions at the same time she couldn't even discern many words beyond her own name, 'Commissioner Sanderson ', and 'Sidney Fletcher'. There were also a couple of photographers following each of her steps, perhaps hoping she would crack and they would have a first row place to witness it. But they didn't know Rosie Sanderson. While inside she might be brimming with more feelings than what she could number and define, outwards she looked completely calm and dignified. No one would get the best of her.

* * *

A/n: Thank you so much for reading it. I hope you like it.

I also hope I didn't butcher the Australian judicial system's procedures too much. If so, I apologise.

In case you're wondering, «Homewards» it's still a thing I'm working on, but I have to confess I have no idea when the next chapter will see the light of day, particularly since I'm also behind on July's Challenge.


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